


Nooks and Crannies

by vjs2259



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-12
Updated: 2011-03-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 12:24:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2109849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vjs2259/pseuds/vjs2259
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-wedding fic, shower fic, food fic. It's always fun when Delenn asks for definitions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nooks and Crannies

Delenn was in the kitchen area of John's quarters, unpacking several items from a shipping box when her husband arrived home.

 

He crossed over to kiss her hello, then looked at the array of items on the counter. "What's all this?"

 

"A gift from Michael," she responded. "He said he was sending us the ingredients for a real Italian dinner." She picked up a long firm loaf of bread and removed it from the loose paper wrapper. "I believe this is from that bakery on the Zocalo; the new one." Setting it down, she picked up a thin sheet of paper. "It says there is dipping oil to go with this bread."

 

John reached around her to pick out a sealed jar with a narrow neck that contained a yellow-green liquid in which leaves and particles floated. "This is it, I think." Opening it, he gave it a sniff. "Plenty of garlic, maybe some Parmesan...smells pretty good!"

 

Delenn looked at the thick loaf and then at the small jar. "How exactly does this work?"

 

John broke off a piece of the bread, a crusty bit from the end, and looking around the kitchen, picked out a flat plate. Handing Delenn the crust, he shook the jar and poured out some of the liquid onto the plate, taking care to get some of the spices mixed in. "Dip it in," he urged her.

 

Carefully she touched the bread to the oil, then touched the moistened bit to her tongue. Her eyes grew wide in appreciation. "It is very good," she said. "The taste is strong though." A small drop fell from the bread and trickled down her arm. "Oh," she exclaimed, raising her arm and letting the sleeve of her bathrobe fall back so the oil didn't reach it.

 

John lowered his head to her arm and caught the errant drip with his tongue. "Got it," he said, then proceeded to make sure. Lifting her arm to his lips he kissed it, then ran his tongue up to her wrist, pausing to drop a kiss on the pulse point. He finished by sucking the remnants of the oil off her fingertips, avoiding the two that still held the piece of bread.

 

As a reward, she popped the crust into his mouth, and he chewed it thoughtfully. "It is a little strong. Someone was a little heavy-handed with the garlic." Delenn was wiping her fingers on a scrap of linen, as he picked up the jar and examined it. "This is home-made! Lise's visit must have inspired him."

 

"We should have them over for dinner the next time she is on-station,," Delenn said as she continued to unpack the box and put the various foodstuffs away. She stopped briefly, examining a vacuum-sealed package of pasta. "Does this need cold storage?" she wondered aloud. Then, shrugging, she turned and placed it in the cooler. "I hope you know how to prepare these items. I do not relish another day going through the various files EarthNet has on human cuisine!"

 

John said, "I think I can manage." His voice was airy and confident, and he studiously ignored the pointed look Delenn gave him over her shoulder. Tearing another piece of bread from the loaf, he stuffed it in his mouth and chewed industriously. "This is really good."

 

Delenn remarked mildly, "You should save it for the oil. Why is this particular bread used? Is it traditional?"

 

John nodded as he swallowed. "It has lots of nooks and crannies to hold the oil." Dipping a finger in the oil pooled on the plate, he swirled it around and around. "Other things have nooks and crannies," he noted absently. Holding out his finger towards her, he said, "You should give it another try," he urged. "It's better this way."

 

She stared at him for a moment, wondering what he meant. Then she leaned forward and touched the tip of her tongue to his finger. "It tastes the same," she said, puzzled.

 

He placed his finger in his own mouth. "No it doesn't," he said playfully. "It tastes like you now."

 

Her eyes grew wide, then she shook her head. She leaned across the counter and tilted the box to check that she had emptied it, and asked absently, "What exactly is a nook? Or a cranny for that matter?"

 

Her robe gaped open a bit as she stretched forward, and John admired the view. "A nook is a corner," he said, "A secluded place...." Dipping his finger into the oil again, he dabbed a bit behind her ear. "There's one," he said, and then proceeded to kiss the area clean. "By the way, why are you in your robe?" he asked, his breath warm against her cheek as he pressed up against her from behind.

 

"I was on my way to the shower when the bell rang with this delivery," Delenn said. She paused to move her hair to one side so that he could continue nuzzling her neck. While she focused on completing her task and closed up the now-empty box, he ran his finger around her neck and down between her breasts, continuing to taste the oil on the exposed skin within his reach.

 

"A cranny," he said in between his ministrations, which by now had her breathing rapidly, and shifting under his mouth to direct his attention where she apparently felt it was needed. "Now that's a different story." As she turned in his arms to face him her robe fell off one shoulder. John drew circles in oil on the rounded top of it and then moved the trail down along her collarbone.

 

"And what is this story?" Her voice was faint, and her level of interest in the vocabulary lesson seemed to be fading. There seemed to be other things on her mind. She had inserted one knee between his legs, first rubbing against him, then making space for her hands to unfasten his trousers and explore inside his waistband.

 

"A cranny is a crack or crevice." John dripped some of the oil from his hand into the gap between her breasts, then followed its slick track with his tongue. His hand went ahead of his tongue, opening her robe and moving down her stomach and between her legs. "An opening, a slit or gap," he said after suckling first one breast, then the other. The robe had fallen wide open, and her head was thrown back. He was enjoying the feel of his hands and mouth roaming over her, as well as her hands stroking him to rigidity.

 

Flushed and excited, Delenn withdrew her hands and pulled away from his, announcing, "I believe I am in need of that shower."

 

John smiled at her, "Oh, yes," he replied as she took hold of his slippery hand and pulled him toward the bathroom. Under his breath he added, "You're in need of something, and so am I." Once inside the sleeping area, he began to remove his clothes as she went ahead to start the water running. "Delenn?" he called as he stripped and quickly moved toward the cloud of steam emerging from the bath. "What did Michael send for dessert?"

 

"Something called cannoli. They seemed to be tubes filled with thick cream," she said. The sounds of water splashing made him hurry. He didn't want to miss washing her hair. As he opened the glass door and got in with her, she smiled up at him. "I can think of some uses for that as well."

 

He gave a small whoop of approval and joined her under the spray. "We may need to take another shower after dinner," he said with mock regret. Then he got to work cleaning up his wife...every nook and cranny of her.

 

 

 


End file.
